


Vision

by Trekgloria



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekgloria/pseuds/Trekgloria
Summary: A reflection on how Ross and Demelza viewed their future.





	Vision

VISION

Standing on the porch roof checking for broken and missing slates, Ross looked across the fields, just at the horizon he could see the line of trees obscuring Trenwith. Ross reflected on how many times had he made the crossing to his family's ancestral home, often journeying there daily after his mother died. But now it was in the hands of his greatest enemy, George. Drawing his eyes back to his own home, he turned to see Demelza come out of the barn. Weighted down with 2 pails of fresh milk, Ross moved towards the ladder to come to her aid, but before he reached the first rung, she disappeared into the kitchen. As usual he thought, Demelza never asked another to do work that was backbreaking or tedious. Though Ross knew she could master any situation, he also recognized that even now, Demelza always walked a fine line between the scullery maid and lady of the manor. Ross understood for Demelza there was the dread that old habits died hard, something he also feared for himself.  
Climbing down, Ross went to the trough and pumped fresh water he caught in hand for a drink. As he walked back to the ladder, Demelza came out with Jeremy at her side, who upon seeing Ross, ran to him.  
"Up Da, up Da." He chanted, commanding his father to lift him high.  
Ross laughed and swung the boy up in the air several times then returned him to his mother. "Enough for now, you are wearing me out."  
Demelza held her hand out for Jeremy and walked towards the vegetable garden without comment.  
Ross knew Demelza was still upset he had encountered Elizabeth that morning coming back from the mine. To ensure no secret was between them, and Demelza was aware of his meeting, Ross had quickly informed her of the incident, just keeping to the exact facts, ensuring no words of concern for or worry about Elizabeth crept in, nor what they had said to each other. Ross observed her face to see how Demelza responded to his encounter. Had Ross rescued any other woman in need, Demelza would have voiced concern and worry for the woman and praised Ross for his valor. But with this news Demelza had little to say, her bright eyes had darken before she cast them down at the floor. Ross had nothing to offer Demelza to assuage her fears, a denial of any feelings would only inflame her suspicions. Their reconciliation was still fresh, only a few months had passed since she had allowed him back in her arms. Both he and Demelza needed far longer to heal the breech of his transgression.  
In truth, when Ross saw the horse bolting across the moor he didn't recognize who it was initially. But as Ross spurred his mount towards the horse and rider the realization it was Elizabeth who was in danger brought a horrible dread to his heart. For the last few months Elizabeth had been a concealed ache, one he tried to ignore and deny. Why Ross could not overcome Elizabeth's ability to arouse within him a concern and desire he did not understand. Eventually, after months of tacit avoidance of any reconciliation, Ross realized his future, his love, his need for Demelza was greater than that for Elizabeth. Greater, but not instead of, a marked distinction not lost on Ross. Caught in a morass of failure to make a decision for one or the other, Ross had left both women bereft of a future for months.  
Only with the passing of time and no word from Ross did Elizabeth realize she must seek her future elsewhere. The paradox was not lost on her, what Ross had sought to prevent was now her only salvation. For Elizabeth this was a realization that Ross had abandoned her in spite of his years of longing and taking her that night as only a husband had the right. What had been gained and what had been lost, Elizabeth continued to wonder.  
That lack of courtesy and unchivalrous behavior embarrassed Ross still. His Elizabeth, a woman he had loved, desired, and only wanted the best for, was now married to the very man Ross tried to prevent and even hated. And if George knew of that night, he would gladly ruin everyone and everything to punish him. But more, Ross realized how his actions in taking Elizabeth had nearly destroyed Demelza. Blinded that night to all but his own feelings of pain, confusion, and loathing, Ross could now see how Demelza had suffered equally through those months. Gone was her bright smile, her support of him, and her passion for him. Ross now understood, her pain born of fear of losing her beloved husband and son; her disappointment in him, whom Demelza had trusted, respected, and loved; her beliefs shattered like a treasured crockery heirloom carelessly knocked to the floor, pick up the pieces and try to repair one might, but the cracks would remain. In that moment telling her about his morning encounter with Elizabeth, Ross could feel the sharp edges of the cracks scrape against his conscience.  
Yet even the act of at long last taking Elizabeth, as Ross had often imagined, resolving the ache he had to possess her, in reality left him even more bewildered. That moment of submission to his obsession failed to finally define Ross' feelings and determine if he wanted Demelza or if he would move heaven and earth to make Elizabeth his wife. While the path to divorce was expensive, fraught with public humiliation, and no guarantee of success Ross never considered those as reasons to or not. And yet unable to move forward and resolve to make Elizabeth his wife or reconcile with Demelza, Ross fell into a limbo, a half life, living each day but without hopes or dreams.  
Now Ross realized he had been wrong to go to Elizabeth that night in anger, pain, and fear. Those emotions had ripped sanity from him, unable to master them, Ross responded like a caged animal, starved, tortured, with a blood lust demanding to be satisfied. In spite of finally realizing the physical gratification so long imagined and desired, the deed had only produced an ambiguity for Ross. It was as if pieces of his soul were still locked in time; the young man in love with Elizabeth going off to war, rotting in the prison camp with only the memory of her to sustain him, returning to find she had promised herself to another, and that night, that one night, when he finally took her. Each of those times held a bit of Ross that he was unable to retrieve. That he could still crave and even love Elizabeth after all these years confounded him. And yet, Ross truly did love another, Demelza, equally, but a love born from a different place and experience.  
Upon his return from the war, Elizabeth was everything Ross remembered and loved. Ross had not forgotten her or their adolescent promises, for he had been frozen in time, where every day had been a simple act of surviving in Hell. At his return, Elizabeth was formally engaged to Francis, his own cousin. This turn of events did to Ross what the prison camp could not, crippling him. Unable to claim their prior attachment, challenge Francis, or worse face Elizabeth for fear that she would choose his cousin over him left Ross betwixt and between. No recourse, Ross could not claim that he and Elizabeth, still a child under her parents domination, had the legal right to make their pledge. Nor could Ross demand that Francis, the man more like a brother with whom he shared his youth, surrender Elizabeth to him. Had it been another man, Ross would have challenged him to the right for Elizabeth, but not Francis. And, worse the fear that should he go to Elizabeth and ask her outright that she would refuse him. For several days after his return, Ross hoped for a note, a visit, a sign from Elizabeth that would indicate her intention to keep her promise to him. That she did not reach out to him, Ross could not then understand and assumed the worse. But convention demanded, he as the suitor must approach her. Now that presumption on his part rankled Ross. It was his obligation to go to her, failing to pursue her left Elizabeth to assume Ross was willing to let another man take her and his promise to her meant nothing to him. Fool he thought, but once Elizabeth married Francis, Ross knew whatever mistakes made, there was no future for him with Elizabeth.  
Still the thought of what might have been was aroused whenever Ross spent time with Elizabeth. The desire to be in her presence, the way she smiled at him alone, to hear her voice, always sultry and seductive when she spoke his name, to touch her hand and feel the electric surge that filled his body, and gaze in her eyes that sparkled at the sight of him, like some sorceress' ancient enchantment continued to beckon Ross. Even when she bore Francis a son, Ross' love remained for Elizabeth, whom he had loved when she a mere girl of 16 and he a young man going to war, both of them existing only for the other.  
For a time, Ross withdrew and became a man in mourning for the Elizabeth of his dreams. Work was his only solace and as long as Ross did not encounter Elizabeth he could endure, much as he had while in the prison camp; knowing that somewhere just out of sight she existed for him as she always had. And for awhile this veiling of his feelings allowed him to subsist. Slowly Ross rebuilt his birthright, returning the land and mine to a functioning, if only barely sustainable living. And Elizabeth was an old wound in his heart, like his scar fading with time, or so he hoped.  
And then Demelza entered his life, first as a scullery maid who brought order and resolve to his home. Often when returning after a days' work, catching the fragrance of the flower garden wafting long before he reached the barn, the freshly washed clothes billowing on the line, or the food exactly what he'd been craving all day, would magically appear on the table, Ross was certain the shade of his mother had returned guiding and creating the home of his youth. Yet it was Demelza, eyes downcast, scurrying from the room to finish her chores, but always a moment away when called, who had made this magic, bewitched this house. As long as Ross remained within it's keep, like the demesne of the pixie folk who choose a household and defended it and the residents against all, he was safe. The thought of Demelza as one of the fae brought a smile to Ross. Just as mysterious and confounding she was, bubbling at times, ever youthful, bringing a smile to everyone's face when she held them with her eyes, yet willing to assail any who challenged her sense of right. Ross realized it was Demelza who bestowed the blessings on his hearth through her labor, both for the home and bringing him his children.  
Demelza sought chores to keep her from Ross this day. His confession of rescuing Elizabeth on the moor brought a stifled discomfort to her mind. Demelza knew, things beneath the surface were far more interesting and those thoughts were what Ross failed to mention. Though they had reconciled, Ross' tribute that fateful night in no way denied his love for Elizabeth, in truth it only reinforced what she had known from the beginning. Ross had and still loved Elizabeth. Yet Demelza knew, he also loved her. Ross' admission was tinged with the very things Demelza loathed the most; her status, she was a commoner, not born to into the gentry, granted thorough a birthright, but only obtained when Ross married her. Only through Ross had Demelza risen to be the wife of a gentleman.  
While Demelza reviled Elizabeth, she also appreciated that both of them were always at the mercy of a society which placed a greater value on one's bloodline, and that their gender as bearer of children defined their only worth, never appreciating any innate abilities. Each of them were birds in a cage, though Elizabeth's was gilded and hers one from base metals, both were cages. In some ways Demelza could almost feel sorry for Elizabeth, no resources, skills, or strength of character, constantly at the beck and call of some man. But, Elizabeth had one unique ability; to make men fall in love with her with very little inducement. Such a gift came naturally to Elizabeth. The evidence undeniable; Ross, no matter what could simply not overcome his love for her, Francis, even when he turned to a working woman, still returned to her full of love and desire, and finally George, in spite of his vile character and having the pick of many women seeking to merge name and fortune, married Elizabeth. Each of these men were held in thrall by Elizabeth. Such power could not be ignored. And what could she, the daughter of a drunken miner, ever offer a man to compare. But once Demelza had dared to offer herself and that man had accepted her, defended her, and even loved her for a time, or so she thought. Yet on that one night Ross and Elizabeth giving in to their years of denied passion shredded the flimsy fabric of her life. However, beyond that incident was the belief that Elizabeth was pregnant with Ross' child, a foreboding Demelza could not completely suppress.  
As months went by and Ross refused to declare his intentions or even define his feelings, Demelza realized their marriage was at an impasse which could continue indefinitely in this shadow existence or she must resolve the situation. With that recognition, Demelza determined to end the marriage. For Demelza the dread of life without Ross became less terrifying than being simply the woman who remained. It was only this threat which awakened Ross from the stupor of neither reconciling nor ending his marriage. Demelza heard Ross' words, offered as an explanation for his actions, but did little to remove the threat of Elizabeth, only Ross' commitment to his promise could save their marriage.  
Once she accepted Ross' pledge Demelza realized they must repair it together. No matter who owned the fault, only together could they achieve this. And so the process began, each working during the day to manage the estate and mine. And at night, they rebuilt the physical connection through joining. The discomfort of Elizabeth between them when they joined was strong at first for Demelza. But gradually, with determination and a need to trust, Demelza and Ross wove a new web for their life. These first few strands were fragile and not yet anchored well to the sill. Time was needed. Still Demelza was vigilant in observing Ross, acutely aware of his love for Elizabeth. While she knew of love for no other as she had for Ross, Demelza understood the power it held over people. The love for Elizabeth was Ross' cross to bear. Denying it would not banish it, nor could another remove it. Love could not be washed away if one only scrubbed hard enough, nor could it be starved out of existence. Ross would have to find his way in managing his love, whether he nurtured it and sowed a strong seed, only he determined the future. For now, though it galled her, Demelza held her tongue, but the weight of the knowledge burdened her far more than the pails she carried.  
Demelza returned to the garden with Jeremy in tow. Ross gave the child the attention he demanded, but only observed her. Demelza knew, Ross was often at a loss for the right words. But what Ross failed to realize was the greater impact of actions. Doing or not spoke louder than any words. Still Demelza must let Ross find his own way. The goal this morning was to weed the garden, clear it of any interloping weeds which would suck the nourishment from the vegetables she had carefully planted to feed them. Removing weeds was never ending and time consuming, but rewarding. She could pull and hoe the offending ones, then place them in a pile where they would wither and decay. If only all problems could handily be dispensed Demelza mused.


End file.
